


A promise to be held

by AzureRegulus



Series: Beginning of the new Apocrypha [4]
Category: Fate/Apocrypha, Fate/Grand Order, Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms, Fate/stay night - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:47:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26235112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AzureRegulus/pseuds/AzureRegulus
Summary: A training round with king of knights ends with the meeting of a strange woman in white.To Trifas, he is told. An order by the gods themselves.Drowning in memories about the family he has to let go of, he is given a promise to return no matter what...
Relationships: Kuzuki Souichirou/Medea | Kuzuki Souichirou/Caster
Series: Beginning of the new Apocrypha [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1902436





	A promise to be held

Saber’s wooden sword cut through the air with ease and finesse.

An overhead blow, meant to split an enemy’s head in two.

A top Servant in the truest sense, her sword fell like a falling star.

Reflexively, Crio slashed the blade away, yet before he could take a hit at her throat, the king jumped back.

Smiles on their faces, with slows steps, they mustered every movement of their opponent, circling the other like lions out for the ranking order inside a pride.

Keeping a firm grip on the handle, Crio stepped forth with incredible speed, going for an upward slash. Barely grazing Artoria’s blonde hair, she danced on her heel, striking at his upon right side.

Once more met with the wooden blade as Crio swiftly turned the handle in his hand to a reverse grip.

Again their weapons were locked, both not giving the other a quarter. Instead of pushing against the other for an advantage, both instinctively jumped back to a neutral stance, Artoria holding her blade forward while Crio decided to hold the blade behind him, keeping his reverse grip.

When the last rays vanished behind the horizon, allowing the moon to shine through, the combatants relaxed with a breath long held in finally allowed to leave their lips.

“As usual, you are a formidable opponent, Crio.”, Artoria complimented, earning a respectful bow. “I gladly take that compliment, oh king of knights.”.

“Seriously, stop calling me by that title, Crio. I am king no longer, and it makes you sound like Gilgamesh.”.

“Of course. Would you prefer queen?”.

“Since when have you grown to be a jester?”.

“After meeting you all.”, Crio chuckled, courteously opening the door for the short blonde to brush by with a smile, closing behind them. “Before I did not even try attempting one of them, or the humor was meant in a more vicious manner before going for a literal kill. I did not even speak greek before meeting you and Medusa.”. Truth in words coming out of his lips. His native tongue cut, sworn to never speak a word of his home again. And now he used it nearly every day.

Replying to Medusa’s playful banter.

Exchanging words and stories with Medea.

The best part of his much too long life had begun at that very moment his eyes were locked on Artoria’s and Medusa’s battle.

Meeting heroes that lived when his life went on, now being able to converse and listen to the short lives they led.

What they achieved.

How they perished.

Folding her hands behind her as they walked around the Emiya residence, Artoria reminisced underneath the moon as they walked. Memories, sweet, but also horrifying.

How Crio appeared on that rooftop, barely getting her and Shirou out of there after Medusa had lost, escaping the grasp of Heracles.

How he threw himself into battle against the Berserker after Shirou was mortally wounded and herself out of option, the sword of victory scratching over his grey skin.

“You are right. You changed a lot during that week alone. Especially when you and Medea first met.”.

She remembered fondly how Crio got her and her master out of Gilgamesh’ weapon rain.

Every drop was a deadly tool to tear into their flesh.

But even though he got them out…

The sight of Caster disappearing, the woman that disguised herself in the open as a freshly married wife to fool him, only to speak to him about a huntress he knew barely anything about, broke his heart.

It always felt like a test, digging into his soul to see what lurked beneath the surface.

And when Medea was about to die…

…he was in tears.

She was a Servant, a discrepancy that shouldn’t exist. A woman, long dead, returned to the living for a certain amount of time. But whenever they spoke, Medea slowly opened the protective shell he had around him, the shell that protected him from showing the true self he had pushed down ever since he was dragged of as a child, when that unknown screamed for him to be let go.

Medea had a soft spot for the greek that protected her and Souichirou from Gilgamesh.

She could relate to him, speak to him when she was nervous about her relationship with her master. Her eyes would dart around, unsure if what she did was right, and Crio would encourage her.

Be it hugging Souichirou when he’d leave for work, or even a soft kiss on his cheek.

A woman whose heart was broken by a man she was forced to love.

That cut her brother to pieces and threw the remains into the ocean.

Only to be betrayed, left with the shattered remains of the thing she once called love, repaired by the hands of an assassin.

In Crio she saw a kindred spirit, betrayed by gods and used as a tool.

Their assassin, their machine for slaughter…

…their abomination.

That was what the gods of different cultures called him. A mortal turned into a half god by the wish of a deity to be able to save a single life instead of taking one. But with that came a curse.

He was their new sword.

_“Why are you calling yourself an abomination?”._

_“Because that is what I am Medea. Gods love to play with human lives and I am but one of many. Or would you call someone able to fight on par with Heracles human?”._

_“Crio…look at me…”._

_“Medea, I-“._

_“LOOK AT ME!!”._

_When he refused to meet her gaze that night on the porch, Medea forced her hands on his face with remarkable strength unknown from the Caster. Her eyes a mirror into her soul, he saw her heart fractured. “Listen. What part of this abomination you speak about would jump into one of Heracles’ strikes to safe a boy and his Servant? What part of this abomination would fight against this self-entitled king to protect Saber’s honor?! What abomination…”, Medea’s voice cut into him. Straight and sharp, into his flesh like her Rule Breaker never could. The hand that held his glass with Ouzo shook a bit, when her eyes closed, opening with a smile._

_“What abomination…would call this witch a princess? Crio, you are much kinder than you think. You are not an abomination. You are a man I think my dearest friend would open up to! You are a person I opened up to. I could not hope to keep this relationship with Souichirou steady if you wouldn’t support me…Crio…My heart ached when I saw my master die…and it hurts just as much seeing one I call my brother call himself a monster! Stop it! Just…stop…please...”._

Never that day did he speak that word again.

When he sat outside the porch, he heard how she talked it over with her spouse how she wanted to keep Crio here in the temple with them.

That she was scared of him putting himself in danger with his reckless way of fighting.

He knew nothing else.

He only knew how to fight and kill.

The only child he was able to save in his life was when he jumped into a house that had burst into flames seconds before it exploded…

…and he himself blown away by the flames.

His body was covered in burn marks, but at that moment, the little girl he held close to his heart was alive…

…only to lay at her death bed as she cried out in pain for her father…

Her small hand had curled around his own, shaking from pain coursing through her entire body.

Throat dry and with a heavy heart, he knew he couldn’t save her life. Over and over he tried to heal her wounds, but the wounds and heartache were too much. The doctors were unable to save her, telling she probably had a few hours left.

In her blurry gaze, nearly blinded…

…she saw her father when his blue eyes were on the verge of watering.

When heartbeat monitor slowed down with her breathing, he jumped over his shadow…

Opening his heart for just a moment, he whispered her softly goodnight, pressing his lips on her on her forehead in a voice only a parent could…

…cursing everything in existence how he could not even save a single child.

And when Medea heard of it, she knew that Crio was a broken man, but one that would do everything to save a child.

“Crio?”.

Artoria’s worried voice cut into his stroll through memory lane. She could easily see the sorrow in his eyes. The smile he gave was nothing but a mask to her. “Sorry. I zoned out for a bit.”, he apologized. But his lie was ignored when her hand rested on his left cheek. Initial shock turned into a soft sigh.

Silently she stroked his cheek with a smile. “It is okay. You know, if you want to speak, I have an open ear.”, she offered, taking his wrist. “Come. I am sure Shirou is making some good today and then you can return home to Caster and her master.”. Tilting his head, he chuckled, eagerly being dragged along. ‘Artoria sure loves eating. Does strength as hers always come with a stomach?’, he wondered and suddenly compared to her various main characters he saw in TV once.

The moment his eyes opened again…

…a beautiful, clear white, untainted of darkness…

…an eagle feather brushed by him, flying up to the skies.

That was when he noticed that time had stopped around him…

A shadow cast over his sapphire eyes, he turned his head up to the streetlight.

And was met with the azure blue eyes of a woman he knew much too well.

The body of a grown woman, bountiful, yet with a slim waist, adorned by a white dress with red flame like edges. Shining silver hair down her back that would wave if the wind would rush over the city.

Despite her heels, she was sitting perfectly still ontop of the lightpost, her arms crossed underneath her chest.

“I have been left alone for years…And now you have to appear again?”.

Everything inside him boiled up. His chest burned with anger at the sight of the woman.

That same woman that reached out to him so often in the halls of gods, yet bit her lip when he returned her gaze.

But for once, her eyes were distinct and sharp, devoid of the warmth she normally looked at him with.

“It is finally time…”.

A voice that sung a solemn tune. Stepping forth, her descend elegant, reminiscent of an angel, she landed in front of him, obscuring his view. “What is it time for? Do I have to kill another one?”. Crio only could think what kind of person he was supposed to kill this time. It was all he was good for after all. His joy taken away, he waited for her response…

A gentle brush over his skin…

Just like Artoria before, her hand was on his cheek. Like a mother she caressed it.

“Romania…Your new task is in Trifas…”, she whispered a location, removing her heart.

A strange sensation spread inside of him.

His breath taken, he felt his chest tighten. A tight grip on his shirt, his face contorted into a terrifying grimace. “What did you-“.

“Go to Romania, Crio. Go to Trifas. That is your next task…”.

The pain vanished the instant the woman turned on her heel. With elegant steps away from him, the woman disappeared, living behind the confused warrior.

“Crio? What is wrong?”, Artoria turned his attention back to her. The adorable tilt of her head aside, he shook his head. “Nothing, forget it. Let’s not keep Shirou waiting any longer.”. Attention averted with a predatory glint in Artoria’s eyes he could only compare to a hungry lion, Crio gave an awkward smile, silently following along.

Inside however too many questions sprouted from the seeds that were the woman’s words.

Who was she?

What was his new task?

What was that sensation of weakness?

And more importantly…

…what would await him in Trifas?

Unable to sleep, Crio sat outside on the porch. His left leg drawn in, he glared up to the night sky.

“Trifas…”.

Slowly he felt his heart beat faster at the name of the city he tasked to go to. But what would await him down there?

Holding out his right hand, Crio inhaled the fresh air of the night sky. The worry in his heart faded, his eyes closed…

Upon clenching his fist, the sheath of a Katana appeared in his hand.

Beautifully ornated with black lines forming vines of olive trees the sheath, Crio pressed his hand on the hilt.

Held against the moon, the pitch-black steel that sent many lives into the abyss reflected the beauty.

“You are leaving?”.

From the corner of his eyes, he saw how Souichirou approached him with crossed arms. Pushing the sword back, his attention went back to the moon. So many memories he had with the orb that shed light in the deepest night, both horrible and beautiful. Taking seat beside him, Souichirou waited until he received a slow nod. “Have you told Caster yet?”. “I will tomorrow. She shouldn’t worry about me.”, he chuckled with a playful wink. “After all, you both have your marriage to look forward to. I would be in the way.”. An unusual expression spread on the assassin’s face, a hefty blush he rarely saw. “Well, at least you are able to show a few feelings now. As long as Medea is safe and happy, I can leave in peace.”.

“You know she wants to see you at the wedding.”.

“I will be there, haha. I promised her already that I will there. Of course I want to see her happy and in a wedding dress.”.

“Hmm…She didn’t tell you everything.”.

His playful tone turned curious. Tilting his head, Crio gazed at Souichirou, pulling out a small box.

Callous he sounded, but his words were earnest.

The next words made Crio choke.

Everything he had done after his childhood was over is take lives.

“She wants you to be the ring bearer on our wedding.”, Souichirou explained, his thumb running over the box. Ever since the holy grail war, the assassin had found the thing inside his chest called heart to beat again. Always Crio smiled fondly how the Caster would smile and grin when Souichirou spoke with her, held her. The woman he read about, the oh so feared witch, being a happily married wife.

And now that woman wants Crio to accompany her to the biggest moment of her life.

Behind his glasses making his eyes seem so much sharper than normal, Souichirou clenched the box tightly in his hand. “This is Caster’s biggest moment. I want this to be a day she will remember fondly of. So no matter what happens, Crio.”.

His plight sounded more like a threat to Crio.

“Do not die. Return to us alive and well. That is why…”.

The box Souichirou cradled in his hand, his joy and hope for a future with Medea, was held straight in front of Crio’s face. Offguard, Crio’s eyes widened as he started to choke again.

“Take that with you…as your promise to Medea…and a good luck charm…”.

The fingers that took the box were shaking violently. Inside was something that could very well resemble Medea’s heart, carefully crafted to be her happiness. And he was tasked to keep it safe under any circumstances.

And when the box was in his palms…

…every hesitation in Crio’s eyes was washed away.

…

A few days later, Crio was in front of the Tokyo airport.

The sky was clouded, devouring any sort of light.

Wearing his black leather coat, Crio gazed up as another plane was ready for arrival, slowly descending from the skies.

Behind him, Medea crossed her hands over her chest. “Crio, do you really have to go?”, she worried. Her heart had been aching since she was told by Souichirou himself that Crio would have to leave for a while. A weary smile on his lips, he turned around. “Don’t worry, Medea. I will be back before you know it. Don’t you two have a wedding to prepare for?”. “Don’t drive away from the topic.”, she cut his joke down. Souichirou nodded at Crio, having already expected Medea to not be happy with Crio descending to a place she didn’t know a thing about.

“You could have at least asked Medusa to go with you, or Saber. I would have even given you Assassin just to be-“.

“Medea.”.

Approaching the Caster, her eyes fell shut at the look in his eyes.

Pure conviction. A burning flame that could not be put out.

Grasping her shoulders gently, Crio gave a smile that could cut through any worry of hers. His hands were still strong and warm. But there was fear of them turning cold. “Min anisycheís. (Don’t worry) I will return, Medea. I will come back and I cannot wait to see you walk the carpet to Souichirou.”, he promised in greek.

His promise felt strong, but the worry in her chest barely lessened, instead turning into an inferno that she felt burn her from the inside out.

Her gaze grew hazy as a few tears formed with heartbreaking sobs.

Wrapping her arms around her friend, gently swaying, she nuzzled against his shoulder.

“I swear…to Hecate herself…I-If you disappear before you were able to see me in my wedding dress…”.

Combing her bluish violet hair, Crio smiled how she struggled to speak under the hot tears. Gasping sharply, taking every strength she had to smile, Medea threatened playfully: “I will make you pay for that. Stay save, Crio. Don’t do anything stupid…”. “I won’t. The last thing I want is your husband to glare at me.”, Crio chuckled softly at Medea’s attempt to stay strong.

Exchanging a shake of hands, Souichirou only nodded, with Crio knowing full well about his new promise.

Once he vanished inside the crowds of people, Medea pressed her face into Souichirou’s chest, holding tightly onto him when strong arms wrapped around her.

“I apologize, Souichirou-sama…”.

“That you worry is normal…”, he replied calmly, his gaze to the sky as another plane left.

“After all, that he has too many scars. On his body…”.

Inside the plane, Crio settled on his place near the window, he pulled out the box.

His fingers clenched the box in his hand for a second, reminded of his promise before putting it back in his pocket.

Up above the sky, Crio sighed. Fatigue overran him, making his eyelids grow heavier and heavier. The flight was draining him.

Finally, his mind shutting down…

…Morpheus’ blanket pulled him into a deep slumber…

…

_‘My life…was nothing but disappointments…’._

The solemn voice of a woman reached his ears in the darkness as he sat on pillar, a platform made from stained glass.

_‘My father hated me…and males only liked me for my appearance, never for my wish…’._

Frowning he listened to the voice.

_‘For once…I would like a master…than can understand me…’._

It was only a bare glimpse he got.

A fuzzy green blur.

But when it turned…

…his attention was on the soft lips of a woman turned into a smile.

…

Drenched in sweat his eyes shot open. His heart pounded in his ears like a war drum, fueled by adrenaline.

His shaky hand on his face, he gazed outside the window, only able to see the sea of clouds below and the starlit sky above.

But that silence, that unnerving feeling of peace felt like the calm before a storm.

‘Woman…what have you send me into?’, he wondered, remembering the woman in white that gave him his task.

Teeth bared, he questioned the strange woman with a hiss.

“Who…are you?!”.

…

Inside a church stood a man.

Wearing the clothes of a priest, his hair white and spike, a contrast to the sleek black of his suit, he gazed behind him at the clicking of heels.

A woman so beautiful, so elegant. A woman that only could belong on a throne.

But her eyes a striking gold that pierced the darkness, her smile sinister and calculated.

Turning his peaceful expression to him, the man asked: “Is everything prepared?”. “Yes. Masters and relics are prepared. Though we have a small problem.”, she answered calmly. Rising her arm, the moon made the golden spike on her palm shine dangerously.

“Karna, Shakespeare, Achilles, Penthesilea. All four are ready to be summoned and their master’s present.”.

“What would that be?”.

Sigh a smile sigh, she gazed up at the ceiling, clenching the bridge of nose. Sourly, she explained as if she awoke from a nightmare: “The fool that was supposed to summon Archer got himself killed…”. The smile on the man’s face faded with a small click of his tongue. “That is not good. That means we have to find another master, fast.”.

At the small worry in the man’s voice, the woman grinned sinisterly. “I think I found someone already.”.

She could feel such a strange mana instantly.

The second Crio stepped out of the airport in Romania…

…he felt the mana in the air.

Tense, ready to burst into flames.

It was like gasoline that was spread everywhere, waiting to be ignited.

With a deep scowl he took his first step…

…into what would be his great holy grail war…

**Author's Note:**

> And with that, explaining a little bit more about Crio's relation to Medea, he is on his way. 
> 
> The war about to begin.
> 
> Medea is to Crio like Atalanta is to Achilles.
> 
> A sibling, someone to feel safe around. Platonic love for family. 
> 
> I really, really love Medea. She doesn't get nearly enough love in comparison to other Servants.


End file.
